Любимый стих

Вольный перевод стихотворения Николая Алексеевича Заболоцкого
"Змеи"

Snakes


The forest is swaying
Being so cool,
All the flowers are here that
Have ever existed,
Over the stones like
Around a spool
Snakes’ shiny bodies
Are twisted.
The simple, plain Sun
Is shining
Over the warming
Biomass.
Between the stones hiding
The snakes look like
Glossy glass.
Even if a bird the silence
Breaks,
Or a beetle buzzes
Being brave,
Nothing can disturb
The snakes,
They look like the roast sausages’
Grave.
So mysterious and pale
They sleep –
Quiet mouths open,
Time floats over them
Like a veil,
They are placid Time’s
Old token.
Dainty years pass over
Them
One by one – over
The ground,
And a passerby comes
Then,
And behold what he
Has found:
What are they for?
Where they’re from? –
Can they be understood,
Justified?
Yet, the heap of the sleepy
Snakedom
Gives no answer- deadly
Piled.
Thus, the man is getting
Wise,
He is shocked and all
Alone,
And the Nature starts
To comprise
A dull jail
Instead of his home.